


Repaying the favour

by SlideAway



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Hospitals, M/M, My First Work in This Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-03-01 01:55:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18790663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlideAway/pseuds/SlideAway
Summary: It's safe to say Eric hates hospitals by now, he despises being fussed over and he's pretty sure at this point he'd rather play for Arsenal than be asked if he's alright 20 times a day. However when the tables turn and it's Harry that's injured? Turns out Eric much prefers the role of caregiver.





	Repaying the favour

**Author's Note:**

> My gal Allana asked for a fic so I gave her one, this is all for you <3  
> (also this is my first fic so tenses, correct grammar and good content ??? never heard of them)

Hospitals were not Eric’s favourite place let’s just say that.

Over the course of the past few months the midfielder had been plagued with various injuries and he’d spent far too much time staring at white walls, the sound of heartbeat monitors ringing in his ears and the scent of antibacterial wipes were one he’d grown sickeningly accustomed to.

This time however, he wasn’t here for himself.

When Eric had been sat on the Spurs bench hours earlier, huddled up in his puffer jacket, usual frown plastered across his face despite the score, he hadn’t envisioned his first game back would be quite because of this. Of course he was delighted to be back out on the pitch – the Tottenham training ground driving him up the wall, accompanied by Dele’s shouts of him being in need of a ‘kick up the arse’ because ‘your fitness is slacking Dier you lazy oaf’ – but there was a certain bitter taste in his mouth as he watched Tottenham’s number 8 limp gingerly to the edge of the pitch, a frustrated grimace of pain on his freckled face as he did so. Nevertheless, Eric decided to relish in his return and worry about Winksy later.

Or try to anyway…

It was now well past 11, Eric had already said goodbye to the boys, smiling as he got clapped on the back from the gaffer and replying to a text from Dele congratulating him on the return and asking how Harry was. Fuck – Harry. Of course Eric had sent a few texts after the game but he’d almost forgot about Harry’s condition until now.

22:14 - Sorry about the hip mate  
22:15 - Good result tonight tho  
22:18 – Dels been asking after ya  
22:25 - Let me know you’re alright yeah ? x

He’d contemplated the last one, not wanting to come off like a sap or sound more like Winks’ mum than a teammate by pestering him too much. Eric Dier didn’t do concern, underlying tones of scarce worry and a dry humoured comment or two sure. But not concern. With Harry it was different though. He couldn’t help himself. He’d wanted to send a 100 more messages, erratic ramblings of his true concern, but he was afraid that would just make Harry worry more. Besides, Eric had spent far too much time taking the piss out of Harry’s incoherent texts of distress when he was in hospital, so he decided to swallow his pride and keep it short and sweet, just like usual.

He didn’t know why he worried so much. I mean even if he did look like he needed to be ID’ed for Redbull, Eric knew deep down Harry was a perfectly capable 23 year old man so why did he insist on nagging him about how much sleep he got or whether or not he was overworking himself? Which clearly he was Eric thought sourly as he remembered Harry’s face earlier, an image of pain and disappointment, and he nearly cringed himself at the memory.

That overbearing worry was why, at nearly quarter past 12, Eric was briskly walking down the corridor trying to find room 302 of the hospital. Cursing under his breath at this place being an absolute fucking maze and again when he nearly walked into the vending machine, too wrapped up in trying to see if Harry had even replied to his messages to look up at what might be in his way. A KitKat and a packet of ready salted Walkers were not going to be the reason he was side-lined again. Although at this rate, it wouldn’t have surprised him.

Finally finding the room, which obviously had to be the last door on the whole floor, Eric peered through the small window at Harry’s form sitting stiffly upright, chatting anxiously to a doctor who clutched what appeared to be X-Rays in his hand.

He had no idea what he was going to say to Harry. After all no one else had actually come to see him in person, instead settling with a text or call wishing him better, and Eric now had to wipe his damp palms on his joggers and swallow his regret at being here. What would Winksy make of it? Would he be happy to see him, or did he want his own space? Fuck what was he thinking, he probably wants his own space right now with the results and all.

Eric’s thoughts are interrupted by the door opening as a petite woman in a white coat exits the room. He can only nod meekly and clear his throat when she asks if he’s here to visit and smiles at her graciously when she gives him the all clear to go in.

Harry lifts his head up and grins as soon as his eyes land on his visitor. Eric swears he could literally melt right then and there, but he regains his composure, subtly trying to avoid those big doe eyes that he’s come to love way more than he should.

“Dier? What are you doing here its’s bloody half past midnight?!” Harry questioned incredulously, a light laugh of disbelief leaving his lips.

Eric shrugged, “thought it was about time the tables turned, bet it feels weird to be sat there for a change” he remarked, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Anyway”, he continued, “you hadn’t replied to my messages so I thought I’d come tell you in person how shit of a replier you are, how’s the hip by the way?”

Harry’s heart almost burst at the thought of Eric being worried about him and little did he know the man 3 feet away from him was doing everything in his willpower to fight off the urge to bundle him up and prove just how concerned he was by kissing him senseless.

It took a few moments of staring absentmindedly at Dier’s face, eyebrows raised as he awaited a response, to realise he’d been asked a question.  
“Uh, yeah, the hip, um right,” he fumbled, averting his eyes before clearing his throat, “doctors said it’s just a hip flexor strain, pretty minor, just need to stretch it, ice it and plenty of rest which fucking sucks because I wanna be out there helping the manager and the team and you …”

Harry’s eyes widened at the last part and he cursed himself mentally for letting it slip.

“Uh wait no didn’t mean it like that, fuck, I just-“

“Is that your way of telling me I need you to dig me out all the time Winksy?” Eric remarked with a teasing smile as Harry’s eyes grew even bigger.

His small smile morphed into a genuine grin, choking down the knowledge that humour was the only way he was going to cover up how adorable Winksy stumbling over his words was and how much better he thought those innocent eyes would look peering up at him while his mouth was around his – no, really not the time.

“No no no it wasn’t like that mate I just meant you kno-”

“I’m messing with ya Winksy, anyway we gonna get out of here or what? I’m sick of seeing blue scrubs and you need a ride back to the hotel”

Harry stared at him like he’d just been asked to recite the whole of the most recent Metallica album backwards.

Eric just blinked.

“Uh yeah sorry mate I’d, uh, love a ride thanks Dier, appreciate it”

Eric nodded as he let him collect his things and followed Harry to the front desk so he could scribble a signature, grab some painkillers and they could be on their way, but there was one word fogging up his brain as he kept his eyes trained on the back of Harry’s head.

Mate.

That one word that made Eric’s stomach churn and his heart lurch. That’s all they were. All they ever could be. Mates.

Sure, Harry had been dared to do a body-shot off him while the boys were on a night out but what’s a bit of lad banter after a couple of jagers right? Eric had chalked the semi he’d got after down to the lack of action he’d had and swore the alcohol running through his veins was just messing with his mind. There was also that time Eric had got carried away with a celebration and kissed Harry’s neck but what’s a show of affection between two mates in the heat of the moment?

They were just mates, but deep-down Eric knew you don’t feel the way he does for simply just a friend. The realist in him had convinced himself that there was a practical explanation for every feeling or action he’d had towards Harry. His array of illnesses had had him cooped up on the sofa for far too long having to suffer through enough romcoms to make even Ryan Gosling proud, thus subsequently stopping him from getting laid. But now, as he scanned over them stupidly adorable button eyes and the splay of freckles across his nose and the impeccably styled hair and the rosy hue of his blushing cheeks, he realised that he’d well and truly played himself. 

Well done Dier you idiot, he thought, you’ve managed to fall for Harry Winks.

It was swift drive from the hospital to the hotel, both of them humming along to the radio and making animated chat about the game, how it was nice to see Jadon again and even nicer to come away with a positive result for a second time.

Soon enough they were at Harry’s hotel door, Eric about to pass him his small prescription bag when Harry started frantically patting around his hoodie and sweatpants.

“No, no, shit, I swear it was in my pocket earlier”

“What are you on about? What’ve you lost?”

“My room key, thought it was in my pocket didn’t I, gaffers gonna kill me if I wake him up for this”

Without a word, Eric turned on his heel and started off down the corridor before turning back and motioning for Harry to follow him.

“Cmon, I’m not waiting outside your room all night because your memory is worse than your ability to reply to my texts,” Harry blushed at this and looked down, suddenly feeling a bit bad and making a mental note to prioritise Eric’s messages from now on, “my room has a double and a couch, you can take the bed since you’re injured and all.”

And with that they started down to the lower floor, Harry trailing behind, unable to hide the boyish smile on his face when he thought of sharing with Eric.  
Once they were settled, Eric ripped open the prescription bag and set the pills down on the nightstand along with a bottle of water, nodding at Harry’s little ‘thank yous’ here and there. He really really wanted to kiss him.

Instead, he grabbed the tube of deep heat and perched on the side of the bed, making Harry’s head turn at the sudden dip of the mattress.

“Might wanna take your top off for this Winks,” Eric announced, ignoring the way his hands trembled slightly as he unscrewed the cap. 

Harry’s mouth went dry at the thought of Eric’s hands on him.

“Oh, um I can do that,” Harry murmured, desperately attempting to fight off the blush burning through his face, “you don’t need t-”

“Top. Off. Haven’t got all night Winksy”

Eric held up the red tube for emphasis before Harry begrudgingly shifted and pulled his top off. Neither of them moved. Eric’s eyes danced over the smooth skin of his abs and he was pretty sure his pounding heart could be heard from the next room. When Harry tentatively folded his boxers down, exposing more of his hip, and his V-line, Eric thought he was going to be sick. He tried to speak but his voice was caught in his throat, something he was almost grateful for as he was almost certain it would crack pathetically on the first word anyway.

Eric blinked away his thoughts and busied himself with the lotion, squeezing out a generous amount on his fingers before pausing.

“S’gonna be cold,” he murmured, voice deeper than normal before finally pressing it onto Harry’s hip and rubbing it in firm circles.

Harry almost had to hold back a whimper and shut his eyes instead, stomach muscles flexing beneath the cold liquid. He could feel the stir of his dick in his joggers – now he’d never been one for religion but holy fuck did he pray that Eric would hurry up so he wouldn’t notice the effect he was having on him. 

When Eric’s hand edged slightly closer to his groin, still rubbing circles, Harry bit his lip with a sigh and Eric had to hold back a moan at the mere sight of it. Of course he’d noticed the visible tent in Harry’s pants, he was painfully aware of his own growing erection, but he didn’t dare bring it up as he just wanted to finish this, get on the couch and pretend like nothing ever happened so he could attempt a few hours sleep.

After a few more seconds, Eric retracted his hand.

“That should uh,” he cleared his throat, “that should be alright for now,” he started, voice shaky and he quickly reached for the tube, screwing the lid back on and averting his eyes to anywhere but Harry’s.

“Right yeah anyway let me know if there’s anymore pain or if you want me to get some ice, actually yeah that’d probably be a good idea let me get you so-”

“Eric”

“-probably keep it downstairs I’ll ju-”

“Dier! shut up, should be me rambling not you, we should talk,” Harry insisted, chocolate eyes diverting to the floor.

“Talk? There’s nothing to talk about, cmon Winks you should rest anyway, it’s late, night” Eric babbled quickly, a frown on his face in an attempt to silently plead with Harry to drop it but the smaller boy was insistent.

“Nothing to talk about? Oh right cool, so we’re just gonna ignore the fact we’re both sat here with raging hard-ons because you put a bit of deep heat on my side yeah?”

Eric went red. So did Harry.

The fact he’d said it out loud solidifying just how mad this whole situation was and the urge to push Harry back against the pillows and kiss him as hard as possible was becoming more and more difficult to fight off, as was the urge to fuck him senseless too.

Harry patted the side of the bed next to him and Eric stiffly made his way to it, not ignoring when Harry’s chocolate orbs flickered down to the dick print in his sweats and visibly squirmed on the spot.

The sudden burst of confidence had faded away and Harry’s head was now tilted down, much like a guilty child, and Eric found himself skimming his fingers over his jaw and angling his head upwards, forcing them to look at each other.

It took a few more seconds of staring, Eric’s gaze strong and intense, Harry’s timid and wary for Harry to finally whisper out, “kiss me?” and who the hell was Eric to disobey.

He could barely register what was happening, but before he literally combusted with affection, Eric cupped Harry’s jaw lightly and pressed their lips together, mouths moving in sync. Harry gripped at the nape of Eric’s neck and pulled him down into the pillows with him, both of them smiling into the kiss like lovesick puppies and Eric almost mentally kicked himself for being so soppy. It’s not long until the kiss is deepened, teeth clashing, Eric tugging at Harry’s bottom lip and slipping a tongue into his mouth.

Harry lets out a high-pitched moan when Eric’s positioning leads him to brush his hip over his dick and he’s gripping onto strong shoulders silently begging for more as he writhes desperate and needy underneath him.

That urgency and want never falters throughout the next few hours. Thoughts of how they should be resting right now flit through Eric’s mind but soon dissipate as he’s brought back to the reality of Harry Winks cursing under his breath and whimpering his name over and over. 

Eric loved how wanted Harry made him feel, how the smallest of touches would have him breathing heavy and clutching greedily at his shirt. When Harry started whimpering and bucking his hips up because Eric was everywhere but where he wanted him, the older man thought he could listen to it for the rest of his life. I’m all yours his kisses said.

The rest of the night is a blur of fumbling hands and quiet moans and whispered nothings. A blur of him and Harry. Of looking after him.

Of repaying the favour.


End file.
